Chapter 1: The Allure of Wearable Technology

In December, Apple tweeted, “The future of health is on your wrist,” promoting its Apple Watch Series 7 equipped with LTE. The accompanying 15-second advertisement features Siri's voice stating, “The owner of this Apple Watch has taken a hard fall,” followed by GPS coordinates. This narrative, showcasing how a man named Bob B. lost consciousness while cycling and was saved by his watch calling 911, is part of Apple's strategy to highlight the safety features of their latest devices.

While my motivation for purchasing an Apple Watch was not solely about emergencies, I can’t deny it added a layer of reassurance. This phenomenon, which Chris Gillard refers to as luxury surveillance, encompasses various tracking services designed for affluent users, often imposed on the less fortunate. Although I reject the idea of having “nothing to hide,” I find myself wearing what is essentially an upscale tracking device.

Ironically, I take comfort in knowing that this watch could, in a pinch, potentially save my life. At first glance, Apple's advertisements promote security; however, a deeper examination reveals a more complex narrative. The message surrounding such tracking technologies suggests a peculiar form of freedom: with a device monitoring you constantly, you're free to engage in your pursuits without fear.

This allure of "freedom" influenced my decision to acquire the Apple Watch—not for the safety it offers while biking but for the freedom from my phone. My intention was to minimize my iPhone's incessant pull. With the watch, I can receive work-related emails without getting completely absorbed, and social media is merely out of reach. Thus, I have embraced a sophisticated piece of surveillance technology to create some distance from another. This strategy has yielded results; I find myself checking my phone and social media less frequently.

However, this approach has its downsides. Although I am less distracted by the external information overload, the Apple Watch relentlessly updates me on my internal metrics. When I step outside for a walk, the watch immediately prompts me to track my activity and contribute to my daily fitness record. If I agree, it collects data to help me achieve my activity goals, represented by Apple's circular visualization known as "closing the rings."

Even during inactivity, the watch monitors my resting heart rate, prompting me to question my health for the first time. Is there an issue I'm unaware of? Apple thrives on these narratives—stories of individuals whose watches detected critical health issues before it was too late. Am I at risk? Such thoughts cross my mind while I’m engrossed in a show.

Consequently, while I may be less aware of the data generated by others, I am acutely conscious of my own bodily metrics—information I would have been oblivious to otherwise. Though I could disable the notifications, it seems unlikely I would choose to do so. Just as we become accustomed to external awareness, we also grow reliant on understanding our internal states. A return to ignorance now feels unsettling, even perilous. Can I still be free if I’m not wearing this watch?

There’s no turning back. I am now vigilant about my vital signs, monitoring myself more closely than I ever felt monitored by the outside world. Essentially, I have constructed a personal, internalized panopticon. Even in moments of inattention, the possibility of self-surveillance lingers. Nothing I do will escape my awareness. I find myself entrapped within my own self-observation.

Video Description: This review delves into the Apple Watch Series 10, exploring its features and whether it truly meets user expectations.

Chapter 2: The Cost of Self-Monitoring

Video Description: An in-depth analysis of the Apple Watch Series 10, discussing the practicality of upgrading and its various functionalities.